Young Dro - What It Is lyrics
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Young Dro, Young Dro [Girl:] Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a Jazze Phizzle production Young Drooo [Chorus: x2] Are you a killa? What it is Oh Yeah, What it is Drug dealer, what it is Young player, ridin's hard I just wanna sit up in the air Get high, I just wanna be up in the air [Verse:] I'm in the air (come down) Ain't comin down (why?) Up here dammit (where?) Ain't comin down (please) Bubbilish coat, 26's in the town I'm a killa too, Killin bitches in town Chevy with the beat down Make you spin around I could fishtail Off Fishdale Ask the niggas over there If i'm the shit there I don't tolerate My Impala great Bring the top out Bet I discombobulate I'm a tough nigga You a fucked nigga See me in the club all prodded up nigga I got a semi too My whole penny do I got diamonds, earned like Winnie Pooh Give to Lapia And caviar for dinner too Mafia as a mother fucka Don't make me have to get at you I blow a hundered shots A nigga puff into two [Chorus x2] [Verse 2:] My car actually Really walk a factory Ice look like rasberry It'd be hard to try and tackle me Nigga I'm a killa i suggest you don't come after me Bitch I'll be in Collipark Plus I'll on Mcafee Bankhead faculty Boy you need to rap with me Come and talk to me Before I open up your cavity Shots come rapidly I told you not to mess with me I don't play with little boys You tryin to Michael Jackson me? Lord nigga ridin the air fantastically Til their daddy kill somethin else I put my rims up Actually, car flop purple when the sun come When they get done with that thing It'll look Dro won [Chorus x2] [Verse 3:] Meat coat berberberber Shit polar there Hoes over here Hoes over there I'm about to take flight I'm goin in the air Candy with the gloss I'm about to lift it out Can't you see someone on me you don't like And then lick it out We don't need to look at a town We rip em off My wrist folded Forget how much tip costs Buy a hundered k i don't wanna play Young Dro rides hard in the summer day Sellin dope, it'd be giant in my mama's day Bad hoes get treated like runaways Bitch you need to go home cool out and smoke a blunt today Go and say how my cut look like egg yolk I keep two with me all in the bed though My money fed though It's Grand Hustle bread boy We got 28 inches in the air What you scared for? [Chorus x2]
